


Distraction

by kaalee



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Ficlet, Hogwarts Era, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-09-29
Updated: 2007-09-29
Packaged: 2018-10-26 15:01:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10789065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaalee/pseuds/kaalee
Summary: [Seamus/Neville]  After visiting his dad at Saint Mungo's, Seamus discovers that he and Neville have a lot more in common than he'd thought.





	Distraction

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** Written for [](http://shikishi.livejournal.com/profile)[**shikishi**](http://shikishi.livejournal.com/) in the [](http://community.livejournal.com/nevillosity/profile)[**nevillosity**](http://community.livejournal.com/nevillosity/) [**Latebloomer ficathon**](http://www.livejournal.com/community/nevillosity/69477.html). [](http://shikishi.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://shikishi.livejournal.com/)**shikishi** 's request was for Seamus/Neville, potentially including dirt. This came to me in scenes, so it's written in (13) 100 word drabbles.

**Distraction** **  
Seamus/Neville, PG-13, 1300 words**

 

~*~*~

  
  
Seamus doesn't know whether to believe them when they tell him.  
  
It feels unreal, actually.  
  
They've never been close – he's always had a stronger relationship with his mam – but still. There had been possibilities, potential.  
  
And now it seems like something he'd been saving for a special occasion has suddenly gotten lost and he's never gotten to try it out. Does something you just _had_ , but never really did anything _with_ even count?  
  
It feels as though he is mourning for what could have been. So, he doesn't tell anyone.  
  
Is it considered mourning when the person isn't even dead?  
  


~*~*~

  
  
Some people find out, of course. Dean knows as soon as he sees him on the train. He sits next to Seamus quietly, bumping their shoulders together as he idly sketches a picture that Seamus recognizes as his father, easily identifiable even though Dean has never met him.   
  
His da didn't come with them to the Quidditch World Cup, so Seamus never got to introduce him to his best mate. When he thinks about it, he realizes that his father never came to any of the big events in his life.  
  
He wonders if this is somehow dreadfully, unmistakably significant.  
  


~*~*~

  
  
The first time he goes to visit his father at St. Mungo's he runs out of the room after two minutes, holding his stomach, hand covering his mouth.  
  
The witch at the desk points to the left, "Loo's that way, young 'un. Let me know if you don't make it and I'll send someone to spell the floor clean after you come out."  
  
All of the nervous thoughts and swollen images swirl downward through his body, colliding with the bile rising in his throat and he worries that he won't make it in time.  
  
He does.  
  
The first time, anyway.  
  


~*~*~

  
  
He often catches Neville watching him over the next weeks. He doesn't know if it's new or something that has been going on for years. Maybe he's just never noticed because he has always been so self-absorbed when he is around his friends. Seamus can't decide if this newfound awareness is something he should be thankful for or if he wants his old, blissful, egocentric ignorance back.   
  
The Neville thing is odd, though. Neville has this _look_ and Seamus suddenly feels horribly exposed and raw.  
  
God, he hopes Dean hasn't told anyone.  
  
He doesn't think he could stand the pity.  
  


~*~*~

  
  
The fourth time he visits, he goes on his own. He's not sure why. Seventh years typically have more privileges than the younger students.   
  
Apparently, if you have relatives that have been badly tortured you receive even more.  
  
Clutching a shamrock fashioned out of bottle caps, Seamus nods good-bye to the witch he now knows as Delphinium Flicker and steps onto the elevator.   
  
The doors are just about to close when a hand, the nails ringed with dirt, slips between them, pushing them open again.  
  
_Neville._  
  
"Uh, hi," Neville smiles, looking at him gently.  
  
"Um, right. Hi." Seamus says quietly.  
  


~*~*~

  
  
The seventh time he sees Neville with a lady in the corridor. Her robes are light and worn and she keeps looking at Neville with wide, curious eyes. Seamus opens his mouth to call to Neville, but stops when Neville speaks.   
  
"C'mon, mum," Neville says tenderly, "We've got to get you back to your room."  
  
"Frank?" she asks.  
  
"Yes, mum, dad'll be there."  
  
She appears to get agitated. "Frank?" she asks again, touching his shoulder.  
  
"No, mum," Neville sighs as he steers her back toward the door, "Not Frank, _Neville._ "  
  
Seamus stands in the corridor with something indecipherable flooding him.  
  


~*~*~

  
  
When they meet in the elevator again, Seamus realizes that they always stand in the same spaces and have the same conversation.  
  
This time, though, they both reach for the elevator button at the same time and their fingers brush.  
  
"Sorry," Neville hesitates.  
  
Seamus pulls his hand back quickly, dropping his newest shamrock to the floor. "Bugger," he swears, flustered, and reaches down to retrieve it, his face hot with embarrassment. "It's just a... he makes these and I..." he stammers.  
  
Neville holds out a steady hand, displaying a crumpled blowing gum wrapper in the center. "I know," he says.  
  


~*~*~

  
  
"He doesn't even _recognize_ me," Seamus says quietly, later.  
  
"Yeah," Neville nods.  
  
"It's like... there's all this..."  
  
"Unfulfilled possibility?" Neville finishes.  
  
"Yeah. We were never very close, but somehow I'd always thought that we might-" his voice breaks. _Bugger._ He doesn't want Neville to see him crying like a girl, so he clenches his back teeth together, _hard_ , and blinks as many times as he can against the tart prickles stabbing the back of his jaw.  
  
Neville reaches out and touches his hand with his own, paler one.  
  
Seamus wonders how he never knew that Neville's hands were so warm.  
  


~*~*~

  
  
The cool earth soothes his fevered body as he lays back on bared skin. Seeing his da always makes him feel sick and this is like medicine.  
  
Slow spreading, time-released, perfect medicine.  
  
Their bodies brush and mould and press together and Seamus drags his hands over Neville's back, pulling them closer together. If he could only _forget._  
  
"How do I-" he chokes out.  
  
"Shh..." Neville whispers, sliding his mouth over his collarbone. "Just let me... you'll forget for a little while..."  
  
And when Neville's teeth catch his tender nipples, he starts to wonder if anything could feel better than this.  
  


~*~*~

  
  
Seamus doesn't know how they ended up here the first time, but he has stopped questioning things. He stopped questioning them months before when people with no sense of _reason_ tortured his father and threw his world into a devastating circle of unreality.  
  
Moving against Neville in the dirt-flavoured air is better than the despairing guilt he carries around like an old bandage...   
  
But it's more than that.  
  
This, inexplicably, gives him hope. When Neville surrounds him with wet lips, he discovers white lights and diamonds and he cries out muddled words into the tangled green canopy of Greenhouse Four.  
  


~*~*~

  
  
Neville leans against a table in the greenhouse, at ease.  
  
His fingers carelessly dig into a pot of soil and lift a handful, letting it fall slowly through his fingers. "No one ever realizes how good this can feel," he says. "People see it and think it's somehow dirty - that something's wrong with it."  
  
Seamus reaches in, too. His nails are ringed with dirt when he lifts them, spilling soil onto his shirt. The earthy brown seems to mix with the green, blending together seamlessly like Dean's paints. He'd never thought such different things could meld together so well.   
  


~*~*~

  
  
"Dean's still my best friend."  
  
"I know. Mine's still... Trevor, I guess."  
  
"I don't want you to think that I don't like you, though, if I sometimes want to hang out with him."  
  
"I won't."  
  
"And sometimes... I'll want to be alone with you."  
  
"You don't have to. I mean, I have all of this homework to do, anyway. I never get Snape's stupid potions right the first time so I try them ahead so I won't blow things up during lessons." Neville speaks quickly, almost guarded.  
  
"Neville?"  
  
Neville looks up, "Seamus. I don't just want to be your _distraction._ "  
  


~*~*~

  
  
Neville seems surprised when Seamus pushes him suddenly against the table and thrusts his tongue into his mouth. Neville's mouth is cool and tastes like... it tastes like nothing familiar. Every girl Seamus has ever snogged (four, but he claims more) has tasted of cherries or pumpkin or some weird spice.  
  
Neville tastes earthy, _real,_ and he kisses completely differently than he lives: reckless, passionate, unguarded.  
  
"Seamus? Did you hear what I-"  
  
Seamus pulls back and stares at Neville's lush, reddened lips. Neville grins when Seamus touches his lower lip and tells him, "A distraction would never feel like _this_."  
  


~*~*~

  
  
  
  
Thank you so much for reading. ♥♥


End file.
